Final Words Will Light the Way
by Niamhypop
Summary: They always hoped humanity would return to how it used to be. Back to when the meaning of life was love and happiness, not murder and immortality. Santana still hoped for a piece of this simplicity: no matter how futile her attempts. Dystopian AU
1. Prologue

Prologue

_Welcome. Here is your rulebook._

_'Welcome to the year 2309._

_The explanation to your short, frankly pointless existence lay in this leaflet, so pay attention_. _Now I'm sure you have many questions, like: Why me? Why do I have to work hard to live in this wretched world? Why am I asking a mass produced leaflet so many unanswerable questions? To those questions I would answer (or wouldn't answer, it all depends on If you personify leaflets as living breathing beings. If you do, I suggest you seek immediate medical attention) , 'I don't know, and I don't care'. So lets begin, shall we?_

_Rule 1) Every person has an identical. Your identical does not have to look like you or even be the same gender as you._

_Rule 1.5) Your individual will however, have the same general hobbies/preferences/minor similarities as you do._

_Rule 2) Your objective in this world is to murder said individual. If the killing is successful you will be granted immortality and your looks will not age a day past this point._

_Rule 3) You cannot commit suicide._

_Rule 4) If you do not find and kill your individual by the time you are 50, you will automatically die on your birthday from old age. Happy birthday._

_Rule 5) Along with this grand leaflet, you were given a knife, hopefully. If it got lost in the mail you cannot sue us and there are no refunds. You can kill your individual with this knife only_

_Rule 6) Here is the twist, if you kill the wrong person, the poor idiot you mistook for your individual will get off scotch free with only a bit of psychological damage. You however, will be torn from your ability to become immortal. Implying that you only have one chance of guessing your individual._

_Now that the basic rules are out of the way, onto the topic of your 18th birthday. After celebrating 18 pathetic years on this earth with some downright appalling music and sickeningly sweet confectionery items, you will be granted access to 'The Database'. The tracker on your left wrist will also display the city your individual is from._

_'The Database' has a list of every mortal person on this earth's hobbies, star signs, shoe size, food preference etc. This makes finding your individual a lot easier on your chimp like brains, luckily for you._

_So have fun, kill people, fall in love, whatever you humans do these days to occupy your ever decreasing days till the end. And remember, an immortal human, is a happy human'._

* * *

><p>The dainty leaflet lie crumpled in her hands. Though it had been read a countless amount of times in the past 17 years of her life, it had never sounded the same twice. Santana glanced to her left, eyes landing on her calendar counting down the days until her 18th birthday. Fifty seven days until she could finally access the database that held her future.<p>

She scrunched her eyes tight in hope that sleep would envelop her, drowning out her worries, instead, replacing them with images of the beautiful blonde; though it was no use. Each time she closed her eyes, the images contorted, leaving her with burning eyelids and darker thoughts. She hated days like these, but they grew stronger and more frequent as time passed her by.

A year ago, Santana could have fantasized about the delicate voice that continued to elude her further each time she heard it. She could have pictured those shocking blue eyes that captivated her attention, no matter what she was doing. She also could have imagined Brittany's silky, golden locks, wound between her tanned fingers, lighting a path safe from her terrors.

All these thoughts that once saved her from her nightmares in the past, rendered futile in the present.

They weren't as realistic back then though.

These ones sent chills radiating through her body, sucked the air from her lungs and tore the life from her fragile conscience. They ripped her apart, leaving an empty shell in their wake.

Nightmares don't do that to a person, especially not Santana Lopez.

A soft clicking sound, followed by being plunged into complete darkness, signalised that it was now midnight.

Santana lay back into her sheets, raven hair splaying across her pillow. A defeated sigh escaped from her lips as she screwed her eyes tight, hoping that tonight they would end.

Though they never would.

Not for a while, anyway.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Sorry it had to be this way_

The new order was introduced on January 1st 2200. It was more imposed than introduced looking back at it: a news broadcast, followed by widespread panic.

Shortly after that, much to everyone's confusion, the entirety of earth's authority figures disappeared. One day, earth woke up and there were no more news broadcasts, no transmissions, no overlooking force reigning over decisions.

Nothing.

As soon as everyone over the age of 18 figured out how to use the database, that's when everything started to crumble.

One by one, pieces started to chip away, fragments tumbled, revealing the much larger picture laying beneath it. It was the beginning of the end.

The elderly were the first to go.

Then, the children.

Then, the pregnant, the disabled and the poor.

The conclusion: over half the earth's population gone, in just over a year.

* * *

><p>Santana Lopez couldn't complain. She had it all.<p>

For 17 years she did everything that was expected of her.

Shards of her personality shattered, each time she conformed to her parents brainwashing. She hated it, even challenged it for a while, but nothing could be done. Especially not with the infamous Mr. and Mrs. Lopez regulating her every decision.

Everyone knew the 'Lopez' family name, they were the most successful family for generations. Successful for all the wrong reasons. All adults feared them and all kids wanted to be like them. And their 17 year old daughter, well, she was another topic altogether. Students parted like a pathetic red-faced snotty-nosed red sea, at the glimpse of her silhouette in the corridors of William McKinley High School.

Santana Lopez had become that of an urban legend: tales of her childhood graced the ears of a select few.

She was 5"5 of manipulative, snarky, Latina beauty, and there was only one anchor that seemed to pull her from her self-diagnosed, god-like status.

That of one, Brittany S. Pierce

Maribel and Eduardo Lopez had too much spare cash between them. Half of it was pumped into the seemingly endless amount of martial art classes for Santana and the other half into their retirement fund. The topic of retirement funds was growing highly controversial considering they were immortal, and therefore could not grow old.

Mr. and Mrs. Lopez had a concrete design of their one and only daughter: Intelligent, beautiful and deadly.

After her 18th birthday had passed, she would hunt down her individual. She would be expected to have killed them before her 20th birthday, leaving her the rest of her immortal existence to marry a rich ,successful, immortal man of their choice.

Of course, like every child, she didn't meet their 'standards'...

* * *

><p>"It's a pretty day today, San" Brittany chimed. Her long legs dangling over her perch at the windowsill.<p>

She was right. The sky looked a brighter shade of blue than usual, matching her own eyes. Blazing heat glared at her through the glass. Birds sung their dreamy melodies. It was like a dream, a dream in which life was peaceful. Almost happy.

The reflection of Santana training, deep in concentration bounced off the glass. She twisted her head around to see for herself.

"Maybe we should visit Q? She keeps mentioning something about a hobbit,"

"Or go to the beach. I like the beach. It's always full of laughter and dogs," Her eyes glazed with awe, thinking back to their first beach trip together. Alone. Her own soft chuckle breaking her from her thoughts.

"S?"

"Are you listening to me?"

Brittany nodded to herself in defeat and muffled her disgruntled sigh. With one last attempt of a response from her girlfriend, she added."Well, I suppose I'll go then. See you tomorrow in practise, okay?"

Once again it was met with silence, along with the repetitive sounds of Santana's fists pounding at one of her many punching bags. The sound bore into her, echoing around her skull, finalising that once again, Brittany had lost her to her parent's expectations.

This sequence seemed to be happening a lot more frequently lately.

Brittany would call Santana's phone, only to be greeted with the same voice message that she had already memorised back to front.

'_Well I'm clearly doing something more important than talking to you, so don't call me back, you're wasting my battery...' _

She would then get worried, march up to the Lopez family dojo, only to be met by the brunette wasting away at whatever piece of gym equipment she was ordered to use that day. Her phone abandoned multiple feet away, buried underneath her discarded cheerios outfit.

Having carefully padded her way across the foam carpet beneath her, Brittany hovered at the sliding glass door. Her gaze shifted from the floor, to her windowsill, back to finally rest on Santana. Her coffee brown curls, cascading from her shoulders, bouncing in a monotonous rhythm following her fists.

With one last shrug, she spun on her heel and quickly exited, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Each pace drawing her further and further away from the Lopez residence. Maybe she would try again tomorrow.

Santana darted her eyes across the room, minutes later, looking for any signs of the blonde in her dojo.

Good. She was gone.

She heaved a jaded sigh of relief, her legs collapsing from underneath her, tumbling her exhausted body to the floor. Her workouts were getting gradually more strenuous by the day, and having Brittany interrupting her wasn't helping. Instead of confronting her about it, Santana did what she had done since she could walk, bury her feelings under layers of sarcasm and anger.

Just as her eyes flickered and her thoughts flew away, a booming voice shattered through her.

"Santana Diabla Lopez. I did not raise you to _fall asleep _during your training" Her father commanded, his voice dripping with bitterness.

He had been deadly silent creeping up on her. No wonder his individual was an easy target.

Santana scrambled to her feet, her hair sticking in multiple directions and her gym outfit lopsided.

"You know how important this is to your mother and me, and you _sure as hell_ will not let us down".

His looming figure casting an eerie shadow upon the room. He looked like a predator waiting to pounce and sink his claws deep into his next victim, ripping them apart. A bead of sweat slithering across her forehead confirmed that she was indeed, the prey.

Mr. Lopez glared straight through his daughter as her own eyes darted to the floor. With one last clench of his jaw, he marched off, leaving her glued to her spot: wide-eyed and terrified.

As her dignity clambered back into her she heard a scoff from down the hall, indicating that he was not finished with his lecture.

"Oh, by the way. Tell that senseless blonde not to come back here" Mr. Lopez' vicious grin spreading across his face. Though the brunette herself could not see her fathers face, his tone gave it all away. "Her perspective is painfully laughable".

* * *

><p>Its not that Santana enjoyed lying to her girlfriend, it was the complete opposite in fact. It's just sometimes a little white lie comes easier than a simple explanation. It's only after the original white lie has manifested into a giant avalanche of misery and disappointment that she'd noticed that maybe it might have been easier to simply talk.<p>

So when Brittany text her the next evening after practise, asking if she wanted to come over to watch her favourite film '_Alice in Wonderland_' again, she had lied and told her that her father was taking them both to meet a family friend and therefore could not attend. However, Brittany saw straight through the lies, but she was adamant that Santana just needed some more space after her recent training schedule update. All she needed was more space.

That's all it took. But if she drifted any further away, she was sure she would disappear.


End file.
